


Cravings

by hyoidbone



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, disgusting domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:56:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyoidbone/pseuds/hyoidbone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little shenanigans during Clarke's pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strawberry Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caelzorah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelzorah/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What?" She doesn't have to ask. She knows. It's happening more and more frequently. Three nights ago, it was beer. Last week, it was nachos with chocolate sauce and salsa--what the fuck?--and tonight, who knows? Since Clarke entered week twenty, the cravings have skyrocketed.

"Lexa?" 

She groans and rolls over so she's facing away. her eyes never open and she ignores the call. 

"Lexa," the voice coos, a firmer shove and she has to grip the bed before she's chucked off the side. 

"What?" She doesn't have to ask. She knows. It's happening more and more frequently. Three nights ago, it was beer. Last week, it was nachos with chocolate sauce and salsa--what the fuck?--and tonight, who knows? Since Clarke entered week twenty, the cravings have skyrocketed. 

"Are you asleep?" Clarke asks. 

"No," she grumbles but doesn't turn over. She feels fingers on her arm, gently touching her skin. She slow rolls onto her back, looking up to Clarke. Her blonde hair barely out of place; she's been up for hours. 

"I saw a picture today online Denny's posted," she begins and Lexa audibly sighs. Denny's was over an hour drive from where they lived. "It was the one like the clocks--"

"The Persistence of Memory?" Lexa corrects and Clarke rolls her eyes. 

"Not the point," she rallies the conversation back. "It was with pancakes instead of clocks," she muses, leaning back against her pillow. It was higher up on the headboard--she has a hard time sleeping on her back. When Lexa doesn't respond, Clarke continues. "Well, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I really, really want pancakes."

"Of course you do," Lexa says, tired. She rubs the back of her hand across her eyes. "Denny's is over an hour away."

"No, no. I want your pancakes. With chocolate or strawberries. You make the best. Better than Denny's."

"I'm swooning."

"Please?" Clarke whines but they both know she'll get her way. Lexa forces herself out of bed but Clarke pulls her back and plants a long kiss on her lips. 

"I gotta go to the store," she tells her and glances at the clock. 1:46AM. The light indicating a set alarm continues to blink but it doesn't stop her. She slips on something somewhat presentable: dark sweat pants, a hoodie, and bedroom slippers. There was no need for the whole rundown for a middle of the night stop at the 24 hour grocery store. 

When she returns, eggs, strawberries, and milk in hand, the kitchen has a few things spread out on the counter. Mixing bowls and measuring cups and a few other items Clarke thought she might need. 

"Clarke?" she calls out, putting a few things away. She steps out into the living room and, illuminated by light radiating from the kitchen, rests a sleeping Clarke on the couch.


	2. Sun Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deciding on a colors for the nursery, Clarke has a hard time making up her mind.

Lexa is almost finished with the last wall when Clarke steps back and scans the room. She's quiet and so Lexa continues in long strokes, painting the last corner a pale yellow. It's not too hard on the eyes, a lingering yellow that remains from sunrise. She turns to tab her brush back in the can when she catches a glimpse of Clarke as she looks around the room. 

"Oh no," she says quietly. Clarke's finger rested on her chin, back to Lexa. "What?" she calls out, straightening her back without the paint brush. She already knew the answer. 

"I think I like the green better. The pale one, I don't remember the name."

"Citra Lime?"

"No, the other one... honey dew melon or something," she says and shoves her hands into her pocket. She hands over the swatches they battle over and pointed to a sweet honeydew melon color. It wouldn't be too hard to paint over the yellow. 

"Okay. Leave the window open and the fans going. The sooner this dries, the sooner we can paint over it." Lexa is tired but she doesn't complain. Paint dripped across her forehead and down either side of her face. Clarke wipes a towel but it only smears. 

\----

Two walls are done and Lexa is halfway through the third when Clarke clears her throat when she steps back in. She has paint on her overalls, a mix of yellow and green, and a long stripe of pale green across the swollen bulge of jean fabric. She was in and out of the room as she noticed heavy fumes and Lexa would point the fan a different direction to clear the room. 

"Lexa?"

Lexa sighs quietly and stops mid stroke. She knows that voice all too well. Slowly, she turns around and Clarke isn't even looking at her. 

"I think I liked the yellow after all," she says sheepishly, trying to smile it off as innocence. 

She puts her paint brush down on a strip of plastic before draping her arm around Clarke's shoulders. 

"Let's get something to eat while this dries. I think we have enough left over we don't have to go back to the store."

Clarke smiles, and she's happy; Lexa is exhausted and never wants to see another paint can in her life but she'll paint back over the green any time she's asked.


End file.
